


Perfect

by Eldalire



Series: Dreaming Dreams [9]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, les mis
Genre: Baby, Cute, M/M, birth defect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldalire/pseuds/Eldalire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac and Combeferre are overjoyed when a little girl finally comes into their life; and even though she was born with a congenital amputation, they love her just as much.  For them, she's perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Courfeyrac and Combeferre sat I the waiting room eagerly, Enjolras and Grantaire sitting with them as they awaited the arrival of their baby.  Courfeyrac couldn’t help but smile, so completely excited.  His knuckles were white around his cane, anticipation coursing through him. Combeferre sat with his face in Grantaire’s chest, crying hysterically, his glasses a smudgy mess in his hands.

            “Why are you crying, Combeferre?  Nothing bad is happening!” Grantaire said, laughing.  Courfeyrac rubbed his back.

            “I’m just s-so happy!” he stammered into Grantaire’s shirt. Courfeyrac laughed.

            “I wonder if she’ll look like me or you, ‘Ferre.” Courfeyrac said with a smile. They had opted for a random selection of donor, so they were unsure of the baby’s

‘father’.  They both hoped the baby would look like the other, and were both excited to see for sure.

            “I want them to look like you.” Combeferre said, wiping his nose on his sleeve and resting his head on Courfeyrac’s shoulder.  “You are so lovely.  Your hair is my favorite.” He raked his hand through Courfeyrac’s wavy, honey hair.

            “I have gross skin though.” He replied.  Enjolras leaned against Grantaire and took his hand, remembering the day six years ago when they sat in the waiting room of an American hospital, awaiting the arrival of René.

            A nurse opened the door to the waiting room.

            “Courfeyrac and Combeferre?” she asked, seeming far less excited than she should have been.  She did not smile, and she did not offer congratulations.

            “That’s us!” Courfeyrac said, pushing himself up on his cane as Combeferre held his hand. 

            “Would you like to meet your daughter?” she asked, again, without much of a smile. Combeferre started to cry again.

            “She’s a girl!” he said to Courfeyrac.

            “Could Enjolras and Grantaire come?” Courfeyrac asked, looking back to their friends as they sat on the sofa.

            “Um…you might want to come back on your own first.” She replied.

            “Oh…Alright!” he replied.  The nurse lead them back into the recovery room, where there was no baby girl to be seen or heard—only Molly, the woman acting as their surrogate, sobbing on the hospital bed, being comforted by a doctor and two other nurses.  Combeferre was suddenly worried.  He had delivered babies in the emergency room before, and these were not typical reactions.  And where was the baby?

            “Is everything alright, Molly?” he asked, taking the woman’s hand. She would not look at him or at Courfeyrac.

            “I’m sorry.” She whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”

            “Sorry for what?” Courfeyrac asked, beginning to understand that something was wrong.

            “Can we see our daughter?” Combeferre asked the doctor, who stood beside the bed.

            “She’ll be out in just a moment.  They’re cleaning her up.” The doctor explained. 

            “Is she alright?”

            “She has congenital—” a nurse entered with the baby girl in her arms. She handed her to Combeferre while she got a blanket, and he closed his eyes, biting back tears.

            “Oh my God…” Courfeyrac said quietly when he realized.  The beautiful little girl, with Courfeyrac’s light hair and peachy complexion, was missing her little left leg from just above the knee.

            “Congenital amputation.” Combeferre finished the doctor’s thought. He handed the infant to the nurse, who wrapped her in a soft pink blanket, placing a little knit cap onto her head before handing her back to Combeferre.  Courfeyrac ran a gentle finger across her soft little cheek.

            “I am so sorry, you guys…” Molly said again, sobbing still.

            “Oh my dear, there is nothing to be sorry for.” Combeferre said, handing the baby to Courfeyrac, who rocked her gently until she drifted off to sleep. “It is not your fault. And she is beautiful. She is perfect!” he smiled, looking to the baby.  “She looks very much like Courfeyrac!”

            “She’s not perfect.  She won’t walk or run or play sports or do ballet or anything…I’m sorry.  This is my fault.  I’m sorry.” A jolt seemed to radiate through Combeferre.  She was right, of course.  The baby would most certainly be disabled, and would face struggles all her life…But that didn’t mean she wasn’t perfect.  That didn’t mean Courfeyrac and Combeferre did not love her.

            “Molly she’s beautiful.” Courfeyrac smiled, continuing to rock the baby in his lap. 

            “You don’t have to keep her.  You can put her up for adoption.  You won’t hurt my feelings.” She continued.  Combeferre sat on the bed and held the woman in a hug.

            “Why on earth would we want to do that?  We love her.”

            “You wanted a perfect little girl.”

            “She _is_ perfect.”

            “What should we name her?” Courfeyrac asked with a smile, holding the baby girl as she slept. 

            “Molly you name her.” Combeferre smiled.

            “No…No I couldn’t…”

            “You should!  You’ve been taking care of her for months!” Courfeyrac agreed.

            “Well…I like the name Caroline…But whatever you want.” She replied.

            “I think Caroline is a lovely name for a lovely little girl.” Combeferre said, letting the baby squeeze his fingers as Courfeyrac held her.

            Enjolras and Grantaire peeked around the door when the nurse lead them back.

            “Oh come in!  Meet Caroline!” Combeferre smiled when he saw them at the door.  Enjolras was first to his side, inspecting the baby lovingly. He loved babies, and missed the days when René was still very small.

            “She’s beautiful!” he said quietly, holding the baby’s little hand. Grantaire sat his chin in Enjolras’ hair and looked on as well.

            “Is everything okay?” Grantaire asked, seeing Molly’s discomfort.

            “She has congenital amputation.” Combeferre explained, unwrapping her from her pink blanket and showing what was left of her left leg.

            “I’m so sorry…” Enjolras said.

            “Don’t be sorry.” Courfeyrac said with a smile.  “She’s perfect.  She’s just right for us; a little different.”  Grantaire smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

Because of her situation, Caroline was kept in the hospital for about a week to be sure she had no other defects that could pose a risk. Courfeyrac and Combeferre stayed with her the entire time, holding her hand, talking to her, giving her kisses. Courfeyrac’s parents came almost every day, and Combeferre’s mother and father visited as well, though they lived farther away.  All of their friends came to visit as well, all of them immediately falling in love with the little girl, despite her obvious deficiency. 

            When they were finally allowed to bring her home, she adjusted smoothly. She loved her cradle and her moth mobile, and she loved the stuffed rabbit Joly knitted for her. She was always smiling, and hardly ever cried.  They couldn’t have hoped for a better baby.

            “What a lovely little girl I have.” Combeferre said as he sat with her in the armchair, giving her a bottle.  “Thečhíȟila, Caroline.” He whispered in Lakota, the language he spoke as a child.

            “What does that mean?” Courfeyrac asked as he sat on the ataman. Combeferre looked up.

            “I love you.” he explained.

            “I love it when you speak Lakota.”  Combeferre blushed, looking back down to the baby as she slept in his arms, dressed in the floral footie onesie Jehan and Feuilly had given them. He couldn’t help but become slightly sad when he saw the empty leg, the limp little foot hanging like a flag on a windless day.  His smile was quickly restored, however, when Caroline began a sucking motion in her sleep.

            “You have to teach her to speak it.” Courfeyrac added.

            “It is not very useful to know…Not here.” Combeferre replied.

            “But it’s so beautiful.  And that way she can talk to your family.”

            “Speaking of, I should send them a picture.” Combeferre said. “Sit with me.” He held out his cell phone for a picture of the three of them.  He sent it with the caption _we cheen ja la hey cha!_ ‘it’s a girl!’  His phone rang almost immediately, and he handed Caroline to Courfeyrac.

            “Hello, Zonta.” Combeferre said as he picked up the phone.  Courfeyrac smiled.  Zonta was Combeferre’s extremely talkative cousin.  “Yes her name is Caroline!  …she is wonderful! …Oh no.  No it’s congenital amputation.  She’s alright it’s just…no…no she was born without it.  She’s all right. She’s already been fitted for a prosthetic and Joly said she’d be completely ordinary.  …yes.  …Yes I love you as well.  Say hello to everyone! Explain her leg if they ask. I’d rather not tell everyone over and over again!  Yes we will bring her for Christmas when we come!  Goodbye!” he hung up the phone and returned to Courfeyrac, who held the baby as she cooed and gurgled.

            “She asked about her leg?” he asked.  Combeferre nodded.

            “They were just concerned.  But she is all right. She is perfect.” He leaned over and kissed the baby’s nose, then kissed Courfeyrac.

            “She is perfect.” He agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

“She should take right to it. When they’re young like this, their little brains don’t even realize it wasn’t always there!” Joly explained, slipping the silicone cover over Caroline’s stump.  She sat quietly in Combeferre’s lap, sucking her thumb, watching intently as Joly fitted the prosthesis. 

            “How often will she need another one?”

            “She’ll need a new one every year until she’s five, then every other year until twelve or thirteen, then just every four or five years until she has finished growing.” He smiled.

            “That’s a lot…” Courfeyrac said from where he sat beside the desk, resting his hands on his cane.  “Can we pay for that, ‘Ferre?” he asked, worried.

            “I think we will be alright.” He smiled in reply. 

            “Insurance will cover most of it.” Joly added with a grin.  He wiggled the plastic top of the prosthesis over the silicone cover on Caroline’s leg, and slipped it in carefully.

            “Is it hard to put on?” Courfeyrac asked.

            “Nope! You just have to make sure there isn’t any air inside the silicone under the stump, otherwise she’ll get blisters. Then you just have to press this button on the side and release the air inside so it stays on.”

            “It’s just a vacuum?  That’s all that keeps it in place?” Combeferre watched intently.

            “Yup that’s it!  Same as mine, just baby sized.” He smiled.  “Sometimes it’s a little hard to get off, but if you just press this and give it a good pull it should break the vacuum and come off.  I live down the street.  Worst case, give me a call and I’ll take it off and on.”

            “Can she sleep in it?”

            “It won’t hurt her, but most people find it uncomfortable. Just make sure you clean it twice a day and wipe down the socket with water and soap.  And make sure it dries all the way before putting it back on or she’ll get sores.”

            “I think we can handle that, don’t you, Caroline?” Combeferre cooed.

“How does that feel, pretty girl?” Joly asked Caroline.  She kicked her little legs, but shortly started crying.

            “Oh my little wówaštelake (love), what is the matter?” Combeferre said, bouncing the baby on his knee.  “Now you will be able to stand up all on your own!”  Caroline had just turned one, and most of her little friends from playgroup were walking.  She could pull herself up with her arms, and stand with help from the sofa or coffee table, but it was clear to see she was becoming frustrated that she couldn’t get any farther than that.

            “She won’t mind it once she gets used to it.  She probably just misses having sensation since her stump is covered.” Joly explained.  “Just leave it on the rest of the day, and take it off at bedtime.”

            “Sounds good.  Thanks.” Courfeyrac smiled.

            “Any time!  If it starts sliding around, just take it off and put a sock over the stump.  And if—you know what, it’s all in here just take this.” He handed Courfeyrac a packet of information as Combeferre soothed Caroline, standing and rocking her until she stopped crying, sucking her little thumb.

            “Thank you, Joly.  I’m sure everything will be all right.” Combeferre said.

            “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure!  If not, next checkup is in three weeks!”

 

—o0o—

 

The next day, Caroline was completely content with her new leg.  By the end of the day, she had walked across the living room from Combeferre’s arms to Courfeyrac, and she was very proud of herself.  They went out for ice cream to celebrate.

            “You are so brave, my wówaštelake.” Combeferre said with a smile, feeding Caroline a small spoonful of the vanilla soft serve they were sharing. She clapped her hands. Courfeyrac smiled, sitting beside them at the picnic table on the sidewalk. 

            “Caroline, where’s your Até (father)?” Courfeyrac asked.  She thought for a moment before giving Combeferre a poke in the chest.  He laughed.

            “And where is Papa?” Combeferre asked.  She smiled and turned in his arms, pointing to Courfeyrac.

            “Yay you did it!” Courfeyrac said, clapping his hands.  Caroline did the same, kicking her little legs against Combeferre’s sides.

            “She’s adorable!” a woman sitting at the next table over said with a grin. She had her own children with her: two boys who looked to be about 12 or 13.  “How old is she?”

            “She will be 16 months on the fifteenth!” Combeferre replied, giving the baby a kiss on her nose.  She brought her hand to her nose and rubbed the tickle away. 

            “What is her name?”

            “Caroline.” Courfeyrac replied.

            “She looks just like you!” she said, looking to Courfeyrac and back to Caroline.

            “She looks like me, but she is much more like to Combeferre in spirit, I think.” Courfeyrac replied as Combeferre gave her another spoon of ice cream. She scrunched her nose at the cold. “She’s quiet.” He smiled to Combeferre. Caroline wriggled in his grip.

            “Would you like to get down, wówaštelake?” Combeferre asked, placing her down gently and letting her walk with the aid of the bench.  The woman seemed startled when she saw the baby’s leg.

            “Wow…She’s very good on her…her leg.” She said.  Caroline bent her knees and gave a little hop, though she couldn’t quite get her feet off the ground.

            “Yeah, she’s doing great!” Courfeyrac agreed, watching the baby as she wandered down the length of the bench, then beginning the return journey.

            “What happened to her leg?” one of the boys asked.  The other boy—probably his friend—gave him a look.

            “She was born with a stump.” Courfeyrac replied with a smile. Like Joly’s family, Courfeyrac and Combeferre never said that Caroline was ‘without a leg’, only that she was ‘with a stump’. They never wanted her to think she was missing something, or that she was incomplete.  She was just a little different, just a touch more unique than most other people.

            “Wow that’s cool.” The other boy said, watching Caroline cruise up and down the length of the bench, stopping every time she passed Combeferre for another spoon of ice cream.

            “She really likes being able to walk!” Courfeyrac said with a smile. “She just got the leg yesterday.”

            “Well she’s doing an amazing job!” the woman said with a smile. Caroline looked to Combeferre and stretched her arms up, prompting him to lift her back onto his lap. She cooed quietly and leaned her head against his chest.

            “You are an amazing little girl, my wówaštelake.” Combeferre said, kissing her flaxen hair.  
  
  
  


~Sorry this took so long to update!  I couldn't think of what to do for a while...I did some research and figured that the next most interesting thing to do was to have her get a little leg!  Yay babies!    
  
Any ideas?  Thoughts?  Drop a line!  Comments honestly overjoy me you don't even understand.  :3


	3. Chapter 3

Caroline was very upset as she climbed the stairs onto the school bus.  She quickly found René and climbed into the seat beside him.  She plopped her head onto his shoulder.

            “What’s wrong, Caroline?” René asked.  Caroline was four, and had just started kindergarten, and René was an old, wise 10 year old in his sixth grade year.  He would make her feel better, even if she didn’t feel like telling him what was wrong.  She only shook her head, quiet tears rolling down her cheeks.  René was a little startled and quickly wiped her eyes with his sleeve.

            “It’s okay.  Don’t be sad.” He attempted to comfort her.  He unzipped his lunchbox and retrieved the second half of his chocolate bar, quietly sneaking it to her below the backrest of the seat in front of them. Eating wasn’t allowed on the bus, but René made the executive decision that Caroline needed it more than René feared of getting into trouble.  She took it quietly and bit into the corner, sniffling.

            “I like your hair today.” René said with a smile.  Caroline only sniffled in reply.  “I think Lyle has flower clips like those ones.”

            “I want Lyle to be on the—” she sniffled “—the bus.”

            “Lyle’s in the high school.  He’s a big kid.” Lyle was 17, and had just started his junior year in the local high school.  “He takes the big kid bus now.”  Caroline nodded, taking another little nibble of her chocolate, still crying quietly and sniffling every now and then.  René continued to ask her questions and talk to her, hoping to make her feel a bit better, though he wasn’t sure what was wrong.  They were three weeks into school, and she hadn’t had a problem until now.

            When they reached their stop, the bus hissed and the doors swung open. Caroline sprinted down the isle of the bus, leaving her backpack in the seat with René.  She jumped down the stairs and ran to Courfeyrac, who was sitting on the front steps waiting for the bus with Enjolras.  He immediately stood and hurried to her as fast as he could with his cane, and held her tight as her tears erupted into noisy sobs. René was close behind with her little pink backpack.

            “She was crying a little on the bus,” he explained, “but she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

            “What’s the matter, Caroline?” Courfeyrac asked, sitting her in his lap on the stairs. She continued to cry into him, her arms wrapped around his chest.  She shook her head, fisting her hands in his shirt.  “If you tell me, I can help make you feel better. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” She continued to cry, and Enjolras stood.

            “Come on inside, Sunshine,” he said to René.  “I think Unc;e Courf and Caroline need a little quiet time.” René nodded and walked inside without protest, though he was terribly curious as to what made Caroline so upset.

            “My beautiful, lovely little lady.” Courfeyrac said, rocking Caroline in his lap.  “My pretty baby girl.”

            “I’m not pretty.” Caroline mumbled into his shirt, her face pressed against his shoulder.  He rubbed her back.

            “Of course you’re pretty, Caroline!  You’re a beautiful little girl.” He kissed her wavy blonde hair, so reminiscent of his own.

            “No I’m not pretty Zachary said I was a robot and robots aren’t pretty.” She explained, still mumbling against her papa’s shoulder.  Courfeyrac frowned.

            “Why did he say that?” he asked, pushing Caroline off his chest, making her look at him.  He ran his hand through her hair. 

            “We were reading a book about a robot and Felicity told me that my leg looked like the robot leg, but then Zachary heard her and he told everybody!” she gushed, hardly making it through her explanation before sobbing loudly again.

            “Oh Caroline…I’m sorry.” He said quietly, giving her another hug.

            “Then at recess nobody would let me play foursquare because they said I was part robot so it wasn’t fair.  They said I would win because I was part robot and that I couldn’t play with them.” Courfeyrac sighed.

Up until then, Caroline hadn’t faced much adversity because of her leg.  She could run and play and do everything any other child could do. She liked to play outside on her swing set and danced ballet.  But it would be a lie if Courfeyrac said he was surprised.  He knew from the moment Caroline was born that this would happen at some point, and though it broke his heart, he knew he could only help her push through it.  He couldn’t change everyone. He couldn’t take away the prejudice and hatred that filled the world like a dark sea.  He could only teach Caroline to swim.

            Courfeyrac only held her, unsure of what to say.  Though he had been expecting this, he hadn’t exactly thought about what exactly he would do should the situation arise.  The public school system wasn’t exactly helpful in cases of bullying; that had been made obvious by Lyle’s struggles through school. But he didn’t want to say anything that would cast the other children in a bad light.  He didn’t want Caroline to hate them.  Hate only caused more hate, and soon it piled up.

            “But I’m not a robot.  I’m a Caroline!” she said into his shirt.

            “I know you are.  You’re my Caroline.” He said quietly, kissing her hair again, the scent of her fruity kid shampoo making him smile in spite of the situation.  “You’re my Caroline, and I love you so much.”

            “I’m not a robot, right?  My leg isn’t a robot, is it?” she asked, worried, looking up and wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

            “Of course not!  You are a beautiful little girl, and your leg helps you get around, but it is not a robot and you are not a robot.  You are my baby girl.” Caroline smiled.

            “You’re my papa.” She replied.

            Grantaire walked out the door a moment later, his bag and ballet shoes slung over his shoulder.

            “Ready to go, Caroline?” he asked with a smile.

            “Uh-oh I have to get my bag!” she said, looking to Courfeyrac.

            “Well you better hurry, then!  Put your leotard on at the studio!” he called after her as she scrambled inside.

            “Everything okay?” Grantaire asked, sitting beside Courfeyrac, his messy black hair pulled into a stubby ponytail at the crown of his head. He wore one of his old tee shirts—one from before he had lost almost forty pounds—to cover the leotard he wore underneath.  His muscular legs were sheathed in a pair of opaque black tights, and on his feet he wore a pair of worn out Birkenstocks, just for the trip.

            “Yeah…someone was a little mean in school today, but I don’t think it was a big deal…I’ll talk to her later.” He smiled.

            “What happened?”

            “A boy said she was a robot because of her leg, and the other kids didn’t want to play with her after that.  Just petty. I think she can handle it.” He smiled. Grantaire grinned as Caroline pushed through the door, dragging her little pink duffle bag behind her.

            “All set?” he asked, standing and taking her bag in his free hand.

            “Yes!” Caroline nodded.  “Bye-bye, Papa!” she waved, taking Grantaire’s hand and walking with him to the car.

 

—o0o—

           

            “Uncle R could you help me?” Caroline asked in the changing room. She was having trouble tying her ballet shoes, particularly the left one.

            “Sure.” He smiled, crouching down in front of her and making short work of the silky laces around her ankles.  With her tights on, it was nearly impossible to tell that she was different from the other little girls and boys in her dance class.  Grantaire offered her a polite hand to help her stand up, which she took, though she did not need it, and he spun her, extending his arm then pulling her back into a hug while the other children stretched out in the studio.  Caroline laughed.

            “Ready?” he asked, pulling her honey hair into a high ponytail, tying it with her flower tie.  She nodded.

           

“Did everyone practice their relevé?” Grantaire asked as the class of young children looked up at him, most of them girls.

            “Yes!” the reply rang out from the twelve little voices.

            “Awesome. We’re going to start with Pliés first, though.  Everyone grab a barre!” in instructed.  The children skittered to the mirrored walls, grabbing a place on the bar.

            “Okay everyone in First Position.” Grantaire instructed, standing front and center, demonstrating, his heals together, his arms curved down and his hands near his waist.  The little students copied, and Grantaire walked up and down the two short rows, correcting some of the children.

            “Make sure your heals are together, Rochelle.  Make them touch.” She did, looking down at her feet.  “Now your arms, if you can.  Let go of the bar if you feel comfortable.” He added. She did for a moment before wobbling and grabbing the bar again with a blush.  She looked up to Grantaire, thinking he would be angry, but he only smiled.

            “Good try.  Keep holding the bar if you need to, okay?” she nodded with a meek smile.  “Russell, keep your feet pointed out, like a straight line.” He instructed a little boy.

            “But that makes this part hurt.” He said, reaching down and tapping his ankle.

            “It might be uncomfortable at first, but the more you do it, the easier it will be, alright?  Can you try again for me?” the little boy did, and Grantaire smiled again.  “Great job.  Hold that as long as you can, alright?  Until we switch position, if you can.”

            “’I’ll try…” he replied.

            “That’s all I ask.” Grantaire grinned.  “Alright, good job!  Now switch to Second Position.” The children did, and Grantaire checked their feet and legs again, occasionally correcting elbows gently and kindly. He loved working with the little kids. They were so receptive and ready to learn.

            Caroline followed along with her classmates.  Despite her prosthetic, she was very good, and Grantaire rarely corrected her.  Caroline was always suspicious that he never corrected her because of her leg, but he honestly thought she was doing perfectly, and had nothing to say to her. Still, Caroline asked him.

            “Am I doing it right, Un—I mean R?” she asked.  Grantaire had told her not to call him ‘Uncle R’ in front of the other kids.  He didn’t want them to think he had favorites, though of course he loved Caroline and cared about her more than the other children.  Grantaire smiled and bent down beside her, looking at her legs and feet.

            “Your feet are perfect.” He smiled.

            “Are the arms good?” she asked quietly.

            “Yup! You’re doing a great job!” He stood.  “Everyone look at Caroline’s feet.  You see how her feet are pointing straight out to the sides? That’s how everyone’s feet should look.” He said with a smile, hoping that convinced Caroline of her correct positioning.  She grinned and blushed.

            “Now third!” he called, repeating the process again.  He continued with fourth and fifth.  “Now we’re going to play a game!  Does everyone know Simon Says?” twelve little heads nodded happily. “Well this is ‘R says’, and anyone who doesn’t do their position has to sit down!  Everyone understand?”  More nodding.  “Okay! R says…First Position!” all of the children hopped to place their feet correctly.  “R says…Second Position!”  they all adjusted their feet.  “R says…Third Position!” Grantaire put his hands on his hips, looking around for mistakes. “You guys are pretty good!” the children giggled.  One of the little girls blushed.  Though she was only about six, Grantaire was sure she had a little crush on him. Her name was Holly, and she always wore her hair in two braids.

            “Hmm…R says…First Position!  Second Position!  Third Position! Fourth Position!” he called rapid fire. The children all kept up relatively well.  “Third Position!” he called. Many of the children anticipated the Fifth, and made the wrong shape with their feet and arms. “Ohhhh!” Grantaire said, pointing around the room.  “I got you! Max, Rochelle, Henry, and Holly sit down!” he said.  All of the kids laughed. They sat down, still smiling. Grantaire stopped for a moment.

            “How about you guys come up and call positions instead of sitting down. Take turns okay?” he instructed. The four were overjoyed and hurried up to the front of the room.  Grantaire joined the group of kids to play along.  He stood beside Caroline and gave her a little wink.

            “Holly says fifth!” she cooed.  Everyone looked back to Grantaire to be sure they were doing the right position.

            “Hey don’t look at me!  What if I get it wrong?” the kids laughed.

            “But you never get it wrong!” Holly cooed from the front of the room, blushing again.

            “Oh you just wait I’m sure I’ll mess up!”

            They continued, adding a new ‘Simon’ every time someone sat down, until Caroline was the only one left.  When he looked around and saw no other children still at their place on the bar, she smiled.

            “Everyone clap for Caroline!  Good job! You won!” Grantaire applauded, and the rest of the children clapped.  Caroline beamed. 

 

—o0o—

 

After class, Caroline and Grantaire walked out of the studio hand in hand, him in his t shirt and sandals, her in her tutu and little pink ballet shoes.

            “You did an awesome job today.” He said, looking down to the little girl.

            “I won R says!” she cooed with a little hop.  Grantaire was always surprised at Caroline’s ability. She could walk completely smoothly and naturally, she could jump, run, dance, and play, all with only one leg.

            “You did!  You were awesome!” he helped her into the car, letting her ride in the front as a treat. “You were great, even though you had a little bit of a bad day, huh?” he continued.  Caroline nodded, still smiling.

            “I like dancing with you.” she replied.

            “Me too.” He smiled.  “You know, robots can’t dance ballet.” He added.  Caroline laughed.  
  
  
  
  
~Caroline spent some quality time with her Uncle R.  I took ballet once...I believe I sat down and cried until my mother dragged me off the dance floor...


	4. Chapter 4

“Caroline!” Zonta called, running from the kitchen to the front door and giving the little girl a tight hug. “You have gotten so big! How old are you now?”

            “ Six.” Caroline replied with a small smile.  Though she had met Combeferre’s family many times, she was still shy and stuck close to Combeferre, holding his hand.   
            “There is my little wówaštelake!” Combeferre’s father, Takoda said with a smile.  Caroline hurried to him and gave him a hug. He lived in France with Combeferre’s mother, and Caroline saw him often.  “Did you enjoy the plane ride?”  She nodded. Caroline hadn’t been to the US since she was an infant, and she didn’t remember the excitement of flying so far.

            “Papa and I played checkers.” She said quietly, looking to Courfeyrac, who gave her a small smile in return.

            “And paper dolls.” Combeferre added.

            “I like your doll.” Combeferre’s little cousin, Talutah said. She was 14, and loved to see Caroline. She found great joy in playing with the little girl, and simply adored her. 

            “Her name is Grace!” Caroline said, holding up the American Girl Doll Talutah’s mother, Wichapi, had given Caroline for Christmas.  Talutah had loved the dolls as a little girl, and Wichapi knew the dolls were scarce outside the US, so she bought one for Caroline: a doll from France she would be able to relate to.  Combeferre read her the book that came with the doll, and she was overjoyed.

            “I know!  My mommy gave her to you, remember?”  Caroline nodded and blushed—she had forgotten.

            “I am glad you like her, Caroline!” Wichapi smiled, taking a tray of cookies out of the oven.  “Would you like a cookie?” Caroline nodded quietly again.

            “Can you say please and thank you, Caroline?” Combeferre prompted.

            “Sorry yes please!” Caroline cooed.  Wichapi smiled and handed her a cookie on a small dish.

            “Careful! It’s hot!”

            “Thank you.” she said with a smile.

            “We love it when you come to visit, Caroline!  Let me take your bag to your room, alright?” Zonta said, taking Caroline’s pink Vera Bradley bag—her favorite pattern—and starting down the hallway.

            “Could I come, Aunt Zonta?” Caroline asked, tiptoeing after her. Combeferre and Courfeyrac sat with the rest of the family, saying hello and catching up.  Courfeyrac gave Caroline a thumbs-up when she caught his eye.

            “Of course you can!  We have an air mattress for you.  Is that okay?” Caroline nodded. Talutah tagged along as well. She wanted to be with Caroline.

            “We gave you the flower blanket from my bed when I was little.” Talutah said with a smile.

            “Can we make a bed for Grace too?” Caroline asked quietly, sitting on the air mattress that was pressed into the corner at the foot of the pull out sofa. The room was usually used as a sort of office space and TV room, but it became a guest bedroom when company came.

            “I think we can do that!” Zonta smiled, scurrying out of the room and to the hall closet, returning a moment later with a floral pillow case. Talutah took one of the cushions that came from the couch, and set it down beside Caroline’s bed. With the pillowcase as a blanket and the cushion as a mattress, Grace would be able to sleep comfortably beside Caroline.  The little girl was delighted.  She laid the doll down, her shiny eyes closing, and Caroline tucked her in.

            “Is it her bedtime?  It is only 4:30!” Talutah laughed.

            “She is sleepy from the plane ride.” Caroline explained quietly, unzipping her bag and retrieving her favorite stuffed animal: a rabbit Joly had knitted when she was first born.

            “Who is this, then?  Another friend?” Zonta asked, noting the knitted rabbit.  Caroline nodded quietly, smoothing his ears down.

            “This is Bunny.” She explained.

            “Just Bunny?  She doesn’t have a name?”

            “He is a _he_.” She clarified. Everyone always assumed her rabbit was a girl like her, but that wasn’t right!  Bunny was a boy, and she made sure everyone knew for sure. “And his name is just Bunny.”

            “Ah I see.” Zonta said with a smile.  Talutah laughed.

            “Aunt Zonta could you get my Até?” Caroline asked from where she sat on the bed, scratching at her leg where her stump met the prosthetic. 

            “Are you okay, Caroline?” Talutah asked.  Caroline nodded and smiled.

            “Combeferre!” Zonta called from the door.  “The Princess summons you!”  Caroline laughed, and Combeferre peeked around the door not a moment later.

            “At your service, my Princess.” He said, bowing low to Caroline, who giggled. “What would you like, wówaštelake?” She motioned him to come closer so that she might whisper in his ear.  She cupped her little hand around her mouth.  Combeferre smiled.

            “Is everything alright?” Zonta asked.  She knew everything was fine, but she was so horribly curious! She couldn’t help but ask. She had always been that way, ever since she was a little girl—she always put her nose places it didn’t belong, curious, talkative.  But her family loved her dearly even though she was rarely quiet for longer than a moment.

            “Yes! Is it alright if they stay, Caroline?” Combeferre asked quietly.  Caroline nodded.

            “Stay for what?” Talutah asked.

            “She’s had her prosthetic on for a while and she needs help to take it off. It gets uncomfortable after a long while.” He explained, releasing the vacuum and taking off Caroline’s leg, which was decorated with a floral print.  He set it aside, then rolled of the silicone cover from her stump. Caroline smiled.

            “Hello, Stumpy!” she cooed in her light voice.

            “Would you like to leave the socks on?” Combeferre asked.  Caroline thought for a moment, inspecting the heart-print sock that covered the end of her leg.  She nodded before smoothing her skirt back over her upper leg carefully. She smiled up at Combeferre. Zonta carefully lifted Caroline’s leg and looked it over.

            “This is pretty cool, Caroline!” she said.  Caroline nodded.  “I like the flowers!”

            “I always get a flower one.” She explained.  Since she was still in a small prosthetic, she had the option to choose a pattern for the plastic portion.  She always chose flowers or butterflies, something happy.

            “What does that part do?” Talutah asked, pointing at the silicone cover.

            “That makes sure her stump stays the right sort of shape.” Combeferre explained. “Otherwise it’s a little floppy.”

            “That is really neat!  You’re like a super hero, Caroline!”  The little girl smiled before looking to Combeferre and extending her arms upwards. He lifted her up and gave her a snuggle.

            “Would you like to go back out with everyone?” he asked.

            “Yes please.” She said.  They paraded out of the room, and Combeferre placed Caroline beside Courfeyrac the moment they entered. 

            “Hello, my little Princess.” He said, kissing her hair.  She blushed and snuggled up against his side.

            “What happened to your leg, Caroline?  Didn’t you have it on before?” Combeferre’s cousin Chaska asked, concerned.

            “I asked Até to take it off.” She replied quietly, holding Courfeyrac’s arm. Caroline was very snuggly, and liked being hugged and held.  She always had.

            “How come?”

            “I had it on for a long time and Stumpy was getting tired.” She explained with a smile.  Wichapi laughed from where she leaned over the kitchen counter.

            “Stumpy?” she inquired.  Caroline nodded.

            “Yes this is Stumpy.” She pat her left thigh. 

            “Ah I see.”

            “Combeferre, what would you say to a hike in the Black Hills tomorrow, like when we were little?” Chaska asked.

            “I would like to, but I’m not sure if Courfeyrac—”

            “I’ll stay here.  Wichapi and I will hold down the fort.” Courfeyrac said with a smile.

            “And Caroline?  Do you think you could walk a long way, my Dear?” he asked.  She shrugged.

            “Can we see Crazy Horse instead?” Caroline asked.  Though she was normally up for an adventure, she was a bit leery of hiking in a forest with her leg.  It was difficult for her to walk a long way, especially over rough terrain.

            “Sure! We can go into Rapid City and spend the day.  That way Courfeyrac can come as well.” Zonta said with a smile.

            “Could we go to the bead shop?” Talutah asked.  There was a store that sold every color and size of glass bead imaginable, and she used them to bead her own moccasins.  She was very good at it, and sold them online to help pay for college, which she hoped to attend in a few years.

            “I want to go there too.” Caroline cooed.

            “Well that’s settled, then.  We’ll have a day out!” Chaska grinned.

 

—o0o—

 

Crazy Horse was by far Caroline’s favorite place. She was immediately in awe of the massive sculpture carved into the face of the cliff.  Though it was unfinished, the sheer size was incredible, and made her feel very small, not in an insignificant way, but in a safe way, as if the massive man carved from the mountain was watching out for her. She thought Crazy Horse looked like her Lalá—her Grandfather—with his strong nose and deep-set eyes.

            She was also a major fan of the small museum shop, which sold crafts made by local Lakota Sioux people. 

            Courfeyrac found great joy in reading all of the museum descriptions under the artifacts, everything from traditional garments to old photographs taken of famous Lakota leaders.  Combeferre and his family spoke with some of the Lakota performers who had just finished singing, dancing, and playing traditional instruments.  Some of them lived nearby and were friends of the family.

            Caroline stood quietly in the small section of children’s toys and books, all of them pertaining to Native American culture with rich illustrations and bright, happy colors.  Her eye was caught quickly by a large cloth doll, the perfect size for hugging, dressed in full regalia. Her face was embroidered into the cloth, and her hair was dark and braided.  Her little feet were beaded to look like real moccasins, and she held a felt flower in her hand.  Caroline gave her a squeeze and a snuggle.

            “Do you like that doll?” a woman asked.  Caroline jumped a little, but smiled and nodded.  She made to hand the doll back to the woman, thinking she had done something wrong, but the woman only smiled and handed it back to her.

            “You keep her!” the woman said kindly, bending at her waist to look at Caroline. “I made her, and I would like you to have her.” She added.  Caroline’s face lit up.

            “Really? To keep?”

            “To keep!  Do you live around here, or did you come from far away?” she asked.

            “I live in Paris, but we are visiting my Até’s cousins here.” Caroline explained.

            “Wow! You have come a long way!” Caroline nodded, holding her doll close. “How exciting! Are you having a nice time here?”

            “Yes! But this is my favorite. I like the face.” Caroline pointed out the window to the sculpture in the side of the mountain.

            “It is very beautiful, isn’t it?”  Caroline nodded.

            “Oh there you are, Caroline!  Your Até and Papa are looking for you!” Talutah said with a little smile, taking Caroline’s hand.  “but put the doll back, it isn’t yours.”  Caroline looked to the old woman, her blue eyes sad.

            “Oh no!  She’s Caroline’s! I gave it to her.” She explained. The little girl smiled.

            “Thank you,” Caroline said quietly. 

            “You enjoy her!  Keep her safe in France!”

            “I will I promise!” she said, walking across the large open room to Courfeyrac and Combeferre, who picked her up and gave her a hug. She waved to the woman as they left.

           

—o0o—

 

By the mid afternoon, Caroline was getting tired and frustrated.  What really set her off was the stairs.

            They had parked in a parking garage, and had to climb two flights of stairs in order to get back to the car.  She made it about half way before stumbling, landing on her hands.

            “Are you alright, wówaštelake?” Combeferre asked, offering her a hand. She nodded, ignoring his hand and continuing by herself, still holding her doll tightly under her arm. She continued up the stairs, Combeferre and Courfeyrac watching her closely. 

            “Até I’m okay!” she said, annoyed.  “Don’t watch I can do it!”

            “We just don’t want you to get hurt, Caroline.” Courfeyrac explained.

            “I won’t get hurt I can do it!” she shouted.

            “We know you can, my dear, we just love you so much!  Would you like me to hold your doll?” Combeferre asked.

            “No.” she replied simply, continuing up the stairs, but in the middle of the second flight, she stumbled again.  Combeferre was right beside her, and saw her falling, as if in slow motion, but simply couldn’t move fast enough to catch her.  She fell hard onto the concrete steps, scraping her hands and knee, her doll picking up the dirt from the ground.  Caroline’s face immediately scrunched into an enraged twist before she screamed, both in pain and frustration, her little hands bleeding, tears erupting from her eyes.  Combeferre scooped her up and held her in his arms, rocking her gently from side to side.

            “Are you alright, Caroline?” Talutah asked, concerned.

            “I think I have Band-Aids in my purse…” Zonta offered.

            “I think I Band-Aid would be very helpful.” Combeferre said as Courfeyrac joined him at the top of the stairs—steps were difficult for him as well, seeing as he walked with a cane and had a bit of trouble keeping his balance after suffering a traumatic brain injury in a car accident years before.

            “Can I do anything?” Chaska asked.

            “Are there still water bottles in the car?  She might want one of those to cool off…” Courfeyrac suggested, rubbing Caroline’s back as she cried into Combeferre’s shoulder.

            “I hate it!  I hate my stupid leg! It never works right!” Caroline bawled, reaching down with her hand and tugging at her prosthetic.

            “Caroline don’t pull like that, you’ll hurt yourself.” Courfeyrac tried to reason, but Caroline was beside herself.  She kicked her leg, the socket moving around quite a bit.  Courfeyrac sighed.  There would be a blister later, and that would make Caroline upset as well.

            “Até I hate it!  I hate it! I hate it!  Take it off!” she wailed as Combeferre sat her in her booster seat in the back of the car.

            “Are you sure you want to take it off, Caroline?  Would you like to wait until we get home?” Combeferre asked.

            “No now I don’t want it anymore!” she insisted.  Everyone looked on awkwardly, wishing there was something they could do.  They loved Caroline, and fully embraced her despite her disability, and always encouraged her, but they were unsure of how to react to a situation such as this one. It was easy to say that a prosthetic leg was cool or like a super hero when it was working properly, but trying to convince her now would have been impossible.  Though she was only six, Caroline was fully aware that she was not like everyone else, and that she could not do everything other people could do, and it bothered her, particularly when she had tried her very best and failed.

            Combeferre sighed and released her leg, then carefully removed the cover from Caroline’s stump.

            “Ow Até!” she cried as he removed it, the end of her residual leg red and puffy.

            “That is because you tried to pull it off, Caroline.  You need to be gentle.”

            “I hate it!” she said again, rubbing at her stump, pushing her skirt out of the way.  “Poor Dolly got all dirty! And now my hands are all wrecked!”

            “Give me your hands, Caroline.  I’ll put a Band-Aid on.” Talutah said calmly from where she sat beside the little girl in the back seat.  Caroline showed her cousin her palms and allowed her to place Disney Princess bandages over the cuts.

            “Here too, please.  A Belle one.” She said, pointing to her knee.  Talutah smiled.

 

Caroline was asleep in her car seat in a matter of minutes, and Chaska took a picture with a smile.

            “Does that happen often?” Zonta asked from the back row of the mini van.

            “No. She’s usually really good with it…She likes showing it to her friends when she gets a new one, she dances with it…Her ballet instructor says she’s very good, even compared to the other kids.” Courfeyrac explained.  “It’s just stairs that get her.  She’s always had trouble with them.”

            “But she does not want help.  She refuses to hold my hand or let me carry her.” Combeferre added.

            “She probably just wants to prove she can do it.” Chaska said from the back seat, beside Zonta.

            “The problem is that she cannot do everything.  She needs to understand that it is alright to ask for help.” Combeferre added.  “I think she was just tired and cranky anyhow.  Falling was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

            “After a nice nap on the way home and a bath, she’ll be good as new.” Courfeyrac said with a smile.  Caroline loved taking baths.  She said it felt nice on her stump, and that her leg fit much better afterwards. She liked getting cozy and wearing her pajamas, and she loved it when Combeferre braided her hair. Yes, she would feel much better after a bath and some snuggles.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~If you have never seen Crazy Horse, you should go look it up it is INCREDIBLE!  It's even more fantastic in real life!  So cool!  
  
Any ideas?  Anything you'd like to see happen?  Drop a line!  Comments make me far too happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Courfeyrac knelt beside the bathtub white Caroline played in the bubbles, squirting soap onto her palm and making handprints on the tile.

            “Wash up, Pretty Girl.” Courfeyrac reminded her.  Caroline had  a habit of splashing about and forgetting that the bath was for getting clean, not playing.

            “Mm hm!” she hummed in reply.  Courfeyrac poured some of her strawberry soap onto a washcloth, lathering it with his hand, then giving it to the little girl.  She rubbed the bubbles all over.

            “Good job!” Courfeyrac smiled.  Don’t forget your face.” she rubbed her face with her hands.

            “Can you help with my hair?” she asked.  She wasn’t all that keen on washing her own hair yet. She was frightened that the bubbly water would get into her eyes, so she always had Courfeyrac or Combeferre help her.

            “Of course I can!  Just put some shampoo in my hand, okay?” he said, offering her his hand.  Since the car accident, Courfeyrac hadn’t had full dexterity in his hands, and squeezing things was particularly difficult for him. Caroline squirt her shampoo into his palm with a smile, then folded the washcloth and placed it on her forehead to catch the water, tipping her head all the way back and closing her eyes. Courfeyrac washed her hair gently, combing his fingers through slowly and carefully, catching the little tangles and working them out without hurting a bit.  Courfeyrac was very gentle and caring, the perfect daddy for a little girl. He had been nervous at first; considering the little girl wouldn’t have a mother in her life, he worried she would be uncomfortable growing up with two men, but Cosette and Eponine took her out for ‘girl time’ every  Saturday, and she didn’t seem to mind at all.  She loved Courfeyrac and Combeferre with all her little heart, and they were both so sweet and loving, they were the perfect papas for her.

            “Ready to get out?” he asked her after a bit longer.  She nodded, rinsing her handprints off the tiles. “Can you sit on the edge by yourself, or do you need help?”

            “I can do it.” Caroline smiled, pushing herself up with her arms and sitting on the edge of the tub.  Courfeyrac wrapped her up in her fluffy pink towel.  Pink was Caroline’s favorite color, and most everything she owned was a shade of the happy hue.  Courfeyrac helped her stand, letting her hold his shoulders for balance, then helped her into her pajamas: pink PJ pants with flowers and a matching pink t shirt with a flower in the middle.

            “Would you like to put your leg back on now?” he asked. Caroline shook her head.

            “No I got a blister…” she said sadly as Courfeyrac rolled up her empty pant-leg, tying it just under her stump so it didn’t get in her way.

            “I’m sorry, Caroline.  I wish you didn’t have a blister.” He kissed her hair and gave her a hug.

            “It’s okay.  It’s just a little one.” She smiled, holding his cheeks in her little hands.  He laughed.

            “Good. I’m glad!  Would you like your crutches, or do you want Até to carry you?” Courfeyrac couldn’t carry her, seeing as he walked with a cane himself. He probably could have handled carrying her the short distance from the bathroom to the living room, but he didn’t want to risk falling or dropping her.

            “Can Até?” she asked.  She didn’t like using crutches—they embarrassed her.  It was so obvious that she was different when she used them, and she didn’t like that at all.

            “Of course.” Courfeyrac said with a smile, standing and peeking around the door.

            “Could you carry Caroline, my dear?” he asked Combeferre, who stood at the kitchen counter with Wichapi and Zonta, helping his father clean up dinner. Combeferre quickly dried his hands and came to the bathroom, scooping up Caroline and cradling her in his arms like a baby.  He rocked her back and forth.

            “My little baby girl!” he cooed jokingly.

            “No, Até I’m not a baby!” Caroline giggled, hugging his neck as he held her.

            “You will always be my baby.” He kissed her nose and sat her down on the sofa beside Chaska, who was flipping channels on the small TV—the ‘nice’ TV was in the regular family room, where Courfeyrac and Combeferre were currently staying.

            “Hello, Caroline!” he said.  She smiled and scooted beside him, snuggling up against his side.          

            “Hello, Uncle Kas-ka.” She replied.  When she was little, she couldn’t quite say ‘Chaska’, and had called him ‘Kas-ka’ instead ever since. 

            “Are you feeling better now?” he asked.  She nodded.

            “Nice and clean!” she sang.  He laughed.

            “Uncle Kas-ka can you make hair braids?” she asked, tugging at one of her shoulder-length waves.

            “Of course I can!” Chaska replied, turning his head and showing her his own long braid.  He usually kept his hair down or in a pony tail, but he preferred a braid at bedtime.

            “Wow that’s a good one!” Caroline said, envious of his thick, dark hair. Her own hair was thin and light, like Courfeyrac’s, and only made two skinny little braids. Chaska’s was thick and rope-like.

            “Sit on my lap and I will braid yours.” He smiled.  Caroline wiggled onto his lap and sat politely as he put her hair into two little braids.

            “You are beautiful, Caroline.” He added, giving her a hug.

            “I love you, Uncle Kas-ka.” She replied.

            “I love you too, little wówaštelake.”

            “Alright! Bedtime for little princesses!” Combeferre said, sitting beside Caroline and Chaska, opening his arms for a hug and to pick her up.  She shook her head and snuggled up against Chaska’s chest.

            “I want to sit with Uncle Kas-ka.” She said, giving Combeferre a pouty lip.

            “But princesses need their beauty sleep!  And it is already past your bedtime!”

            “I am beautiful I don’t need beauty sleep.” She retorted. Zonta laughed from the kitchen.

            “You’re smart, Caroline!” she said. 

            “Yeah Caroline, you tell him!” Wichapi added.  Caroline smiled.

            “What if we watch a movie?  Would you like to watch Frozen?  Or Spirited Away?”

            “Can I sit in the big bed with you?” she asked.

            “How about I sit with you on your bed?”  Caroline thought for a moment.

            “Okay. You have to help me brush my teeth, though, I don’t want my crutches.”

            “Fair enough.” He said, lifting her up and helping her in the bathroom. He let her sit on his knee as she brushed her teeth.

            When she was finished, Combeferre carried her to the bedroom and set her down gently on the air mattress.  Courfeyrac was waiting to tuck her in.  She snuggled under the covers and laid on her tummy. 

            “Night-night Grace.  Night-night Dolly.” She said quietly, tapping her dolls’ heads.  She looped her arm around her bunny and closed her eyes.

            “Goodnight, Caroline.” Courfeyrac said.

            “We love you, little wówaštelake.” Combeferre added with a smile, setting a gentle hand on her head.

            “I love you too, Até and Papa.” She replied.  Combeferre kissed her hair before helping Courfeyrac into bed.

            Since the car accident so many years ago, Courfeyrac had some trouble with the muscles in his legs, and he occasionally needed a little help swinging them up into bed.  Combeferre was only too glad to help, and they shared a snuggle.

            “I was so scared before, when Caroline fell,” Courfeyrac said after a long while, when he was sure Caroline was asleep.  “I was right there, right behind her, and I just…I wanted to grab her so badly but I couldn’t.  I’m sorry.”

            “I was right next to her and I could not reach her either. Do not feel sorry.”

            “Sometimes I feel like I’m not a good father to her.  I can’t…pick her up or help her with her leg or tie her shoes…I can’t braid her hair or…Or anything.”

            “Courfeyrac, those are not the things that make you a wonderful papa.” Combeferre said, taking Courfeyrac into his arms and holding him tight. “You are the very best Papa for our Caroline because you love her.  And she loves you.  She loves dancing with you on the carpet in our living room, and she loves helping you cook dinner. And she has something with you she can never have with me.  She is yours, Courfeyrac. You are a part of her. You are in her very being. That is why you are a good papa. She loves you more than anyone or anything in the world.”

            “Not more than she loves you.”

            “That is because she loves us both the same.  She has such a remarkable amount of love for such a little person!  
            “And without a leg at that!  Legs hold a lot of love, you know!” Courfeyrac joked.  Combeferre laughed and held him tight before taking his glasses off, placing them on the coffee-turned-night-table.

            “You should try contacts, Combeferre.” Courfeyrac said.

            “Why? My glasses work quite nicely. And I cannot anyhow. They are too thick.” He smiled, his eyes lighting up.

            “But you’re so handsome.  Your glasses cover your face.” he ran his hand down Combeferre’s smooth chin. He hadn’t grown any sort of facial hair at all since Jehan and Feuilly adopted their boy, Lyle, because Lyle’s abusive father looked something like Combeferre, and the beard and scruff made it worse.  But Courfeyrac didn’t mind. He thought Combeferre was handsome no matter what he did.

            “I love you so, Courfeyrac.  I am so lucky to have you.”

            “Why would you say that?!  You could get anybody you’d like!  You’re tall, dark, handsome, can walk on your own.” He chuckled.

            “Do you remember when we were young, Courfeyrac?  When we were in university?  All of the girls loved you.”

            “Too bad for them, because I loved you.”  Combeferre laughed.

            “That is why Caroline has so much love in her.  You have so much love in _you_ , Mon Amour.”

            “You deserve more love than I have.”

            “No, There is enough love for me, Courfeyrac. You will always be enough for me.” He brushed the thin blonde waves off Courfeyrac’s head as he lay down, then kissed the inner corner of his eyes; his favorite place.

            “I love you.” He replied.

            “And I you, Courfeyrac.”  



	6. Chapter 6

Courfeyrac laid in bed, worried. Combeferre had gone into work early that morning for an emergency appendectomy, but Courfeyrac was having a bit of a ‘bad day’, and he was nervous he wouldn’t be able to help Caroline when she woke up.

            Courfeyrac had been seriously injured in a car accident when he was 20. He suffered a traumatic brain injury that left him with limited movement in his legs, loss of dexterity in his hands, and a slight speech problem, but some days, the symptoms were worse than usual.  His legs would become unresponsive and he would lose motor skills.  Sometimes his speech became impaired as well.

            Caroline knew what happened to her Papa, and she knew that there wasn’t anything to worry about—he would feel better in a day or two, and everything would be alright.

            The problem was, Combeferre was usually home or able to take off work when Courfeyrac needed him.  Today, he was not.

            “Até!” Caroline called happily from her bed, as she did every morning. Normally, Combeferre would help her put on her leg so that she could begin the day.  But today, Courfeyrac wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get out of bed, much less help Caroline.

            “Caroline?” he called back.

            “Hi Papa!”

            “Caroline Até had to go into work early, and I’m having a yucky day…Do you think you can put your leg on by yourself?” he asked, feeling horribly guilty. His poor little girl couldn’t depend on him, and it made him so upset.

            “Um…I can get my crutches.” She replied, trailing off.

            “Be careful, baby girl!” Courfeyrac called.  He bit back tears when he heard Caroline hopping across her room on her single foot, all the way to her closet, where her crutches resided. He should have gotten them for her. He wished he was able to.

            “Hi, Papa!” she cooed a moment later from the doorway, her pink crutches nestled under her arms.

            “Good morning, pretty girl.” He replied, opening his shaking arms for a hug. Caroline dropped her crutches and scooted into the bed beside him, snuggling up under the blankets with a smile. Courfeyrac ran his hand through her messy blonde hair.  Though her hair was thin, it was pretty and light, like angel’s hair, with a little wave, just like Courfeyrac’s.  “I’m sorry I can’t help you with your leg.”

            “That’s okay!  We can call Uncle Joly though, right?” she asked.  Whenever Combeferre wasn’t home and she needed help with her leg, Joly was the man to call.

            “Of course we can.” He replied with a smile.  Caroline grinned and put her head on her papa’s chest.

            “Can we put on cartoons?” she asked, reaching for the remote control to the small TV that resided on top of the dresser.

            “I think cartoons would be a good idea.  What’s the show with the kid and the yellow stretchy dog? I can’t remember today.”

            “Adventure Time!” she said.  Caroline loved Adventure Time, seeing as the main character, Finn, had lost his arm. A flower grew in its place, and Caroline thought that was simply wonderful.  She dreamed that her leg would grow into a flower like Finn’s, and some day grow back like his, but she didn’t seem to mind much that her own stump stayed a stump instead of a flower.  She only thought a daisy would be a fun thing to have instead of a leg.

            “Yeah! Is that on?” he asked.

            “I don’t know.” Caroline said, sitting up and holding the remote, concentrating very hard and pressing the right buttons with both thumbs.

            “I’ll call Joly, alright?”

            “Mm hm.” Caroline replied absently as she watched Adventure Time. Courfeyrac dialed the familiar number, and Bossuet picked up almost immediately.

            “Hello?”

            “Bossuet?”

            “Yeah. Everything okay, Courf?”

            “Yeah, I’m just having one of those shi—crumby days.” He corrected himself, not wanting to say any bad words in front of Caroline, though she was half asleep again and watching her show from Combeferre’s side of the bed. “I can’t move my legs and Caroline needs help with her leg.”

            “Yeah totally.  Joly and I will both come over.  We’ll make breakfast or something.” Bossuet replied.

            “Are you sure?  You don’t have to do that…”

            “We can go to Valjean’s, then, if you want.  It’ll be fun!  We’ll be there in a sec.”

            “Kay bye!” he hung up the phone.

            “Is he coming over?” Caroline asked, snuggling up against Courfeyrac’s arm and nuzzling her nose into his shoulder.  Caroline was terribly snuggly, and was always hugging something, whether it be a stuffed animal, her doll, or someone’s arm.

            “Yup. He and um…oh poop.” Courfeyrac stumbled with a chuckle.  After so many years, he only laughed at his slip-ups in most cases.  Everyone understood, and he wasn’t trying to make any sort of point, so it didn’t matter.  Caroline giggled.

            “Poop!” she repeated. 

            “I’m crazy, huh, Caroline?!”

            “No you’re Papa and I love you.  She said, resuming her hug with his arm.

            “I love you too, Pretty Girl.” He replied.  “Now that was I trying to say?  Oh right!  Joly and Bossuet and…um…and us, we’re all going to Mr. Valjean’s for breakfast, alright?”

            “Okay! Can I get a pancakes?”

            “Maybe _one_ pancake!”

            “No two!”

            “We can _share_ two.”

            “No I can eat all of them!” she giggled.

            “You’re a tiny little girl!  Mr. Valjean makes giant pancakes!  Two won’t fit inside you!”  Caroline giggled.

            “Uncle R can eat _three_ pancakes!”

            “Uncle R is about three of you, my little love!”

            “So every Caroline is one pancake!”  Caroline reasoned with a grin.

            “How many pancakes is a Papa?” Courfeyrac asked, chuckling.

            “You’re all the pancakes.”

            “I’m not big enough for all the pancakes!” Courfeyrac laughed, tickling Caroline, poking her ribs.

            “No you’re all the pancakes because I love Pancakes and I love you more than all the pancakes in the whole world!” she flopped down onto Courfeyrac’s chest and gave him the biggest hug she could.  He hugged her back, squeezing her tight and kissing her hair.

            The doorbell rang not a moment later, and the door opened shortly after—Joly knew neither of them could open the door, and only rang as a sort of warning.

            “Hello, Courfeyrac and Caroline!” Joly called from the hallway before peeking around the bedroom door.

            “Hi Uncle Joly!” she cooed in return with a little wave.

            “Need me to put your leg on, or are you feeling like crutches today?” he asked, hoisting her into a hug as Bossuet sat on the side of the bed, speaking with Courfeyrac quietly.

            “No I don’t like crutches at all!” she stuck her tongue out, and Joly laughed.

            “Me neither!  Come on, I’ll put it on for you, alright?”  Caroline nodded, and Joly carried her to her room and sat her on the bed, taking her leg off the floor under the night table.  Caroline said that was where her leg ‘slept’ at night, and even set it on a pillow.

            Caroline untied her pajama pant leg and rolled it up, her stump nice and cozy inside a fuzzy pink sock.  Joly took it off gently and pulled another sock out of the dresser drawer.

            “You have a little blister, my dear!” Joly said, giving the red bump on Caroline’s stump a gentle rub.

            “Yes I know…” she said, giving her ‘good’ leg a kick.

            “How come?”

            “Because my stump shrunk up a little and I didn’t tell Até and it slipped all around.” She explained.

            “Why didn’t you tell your Até?” Joly asked.

            “We were at the Astérix Park and I didn’t want to go home so I didn’t tell him.” She blushed, covering her face with her hands as she giggled, sounding a little guilty.  Joly smiled.

            “Oh Caroline!  That’s silly! I’m sure your Até and Papa could have gotten a sock for you!  But that’s okay. We’ll put socks on today and it’ll feel better.”

            “Okay!” she cooed.  Joly pulled a tube of Neosporin and an alcohol wipe out of his pocket, then wiped down the socket of the leg and Caroline’s stump.  He put a dab of the Neosporin onto her tiny red rub mark, then covered it all with a happy yellow sock.  Caroline’s stump slipped right into the prosthesis, and Joly released the air inside to create a vacuum.  Caroline was on her feet in a moment.

            “Feel good?” he asked.

            “Yup!” she smiled.

            “Super Leg Power Go?” he asked.  Caroline giggled as Joly kicked off his sandal, leaving his own prosthetic foot exposed.

            “Super Leg Power Gooo!” Caroline called, giving a sort of ankle-high-five with Joly, their two prosthetics tapping.

            “Oh yeah!” Joly laughed.  “No crutches today!  Ready for breakfast?”

            “Mm hm!”

            “All set, Pretty Girl?” Courfeyrac asked as Bossuet pushed him down the hallway in his wheelchair.

            “Oh Caroline, I like your Ariel PJs.” Bossuet said with a smile. Caroline smoothed her hands over her silky Little Mermaid nightgown.

            “I have to get dressed to go to breakfast, right?”

            “Yup. Do you need help?” Joly asked. Caroline shook her head.

            “But you have to go away because I’m a lady.” She said very matter-of-factly.

            “You most certainly are, Caroline.  We’ll meet you on the sofa!” Joly said, leaving the room and closing the door.

            Courfeyrac and Combeferre were always worried Caroline would get the wrong idea about herself and her identity as a girl because she was constantly in the company of men.  They made sure that she knew she was a lady, and that ladies always deserve respect, no matter what, and that boys always need to respect girls and listen to what they need and want when it comes to personal space and being happy and comfortable. Every Saturday, Cosette and Eponine took Caroline out for ‘girl day’, where they would get their nails painted or go rock climbing or shopping.  They told her everything she needed to know about how to treat herself and other women, as well as how to treat men and boys, and how they should treat her in return. They taught her how to order at a restaurant by herself politely, and how to save and spend her money properly. Eponine even bought her a little purse of her own—Vera Bradley, of course.

            She came out of her room a moment later in her Princess Bubblegum t-shirt and a pink skirt.  She pulled on her light up sneakers and was all ready to go.

            “I like your shirt, Caroline.” Bossuet said with a smile.

            “Thanks!” Caroline replied in her quiet, songlike voice.

            “Time for breakfast!” Courfeyrac said.  Caroline hopped onto the back of his wheelchair and Bossuet pushed them down the sidewalk, Joly walking beside them happily.

 

—o0o—

 

“Hello Monsieur Valjean!” Caroline cooed as Bossuet pushed them through the door of the restaurant. The older man stepped out from behind the counter with a smile, hoisting Caroline up and into a hug.

            “Good morning, Caroline!  Hello, everyone!” he added, looking to Courfeyrac, Bossuet, and Joly. “Jean Prouvaire and Feuilly just sat down with their boy, if you’d like to sit with them.”

            “Sure.” Bossuet replied with a grin.  Valjean grabbed three more chairs and Feuilly pushed the tables together.

            “Oh it’s so nice to see you, Caroline!” Jehan said, giving the little girl a hug.

            “I like your shirt.” Lyle, Jehan and Feuilly’s adopted son, said with a smile.

            “Papa can I sit next to Lyle?” Caroline asked quietly.

            “Of course you may!” he replied, and Caroline scooted into the bench that backed to the wall, snuggling up against Lyle’s side.  He chuckled and put his skinny arm around her. Lyle had a way with little kids. He was so soft-spoken and kind, it was impossible not to feel immediately comfortable and loved around him.

            Lyle had been abused by his father when he was young for having what his father considered ‘homosexual tendencies’.  He was adopted by Feuilly and Jehan when he was 12, and had since become a happy young man who was very much like Jehan.  He kept his hair long and in a ponytail, and tied with a flower. His clothes were all bright and floral, but unlike Jehan, most of his fit him well, and were not hanging off him. He was a big fan of leggings with loud patterns and occasionally donned a crop top, which he pulled off very well.  Today he wore a happy yellow halter top that tied with a pink ribbon in the back, as well as a pair of pink shorts.  A light, white cardigan was draped over his shoulders to keep him cozy in the cool air-conditioned restaurant.

            Caroline absolutely loved Lyle, and was overjoyed she was able to see him.

            “So Lyle,” Bossuet said after they ordered, giving a joking sort of smirk. “I hear there’s a significant other in the picture.”  Lyle blushed and shook his head.

            “Yes!” Feuilly said, giving Lyle a joking shove on the shoulder.

            “No!” Lyle retorted meekly, blushing a deep pink.  Caroline laughed.

            “So what’s his name?” Courfeyrac asked.

            “He doesn’t have a name because we’re not dating!” Lyle continued, laughing, his face in his hands.

            “His name is Theo.” Jehan explained.

            “No, Daddy!  He came over one time to do homework that’s all!” Lyle insisted.

            “What about ice cream?  Or the bowling alley?” Feuilly insisted, teasing Lyle just a bit.

            “That was with friends!” Lyle pleaded his case, still blushing terribly, sinking in the booth.  Jehan giggled, taking Feuilly’s hand.

            “Leave him alone, Dearest.  He’s had enough.” He cooed, looking to Lyle, who smiled meekly in return.

            “Don’t worry.  He’ll admit it sooner or later.” Bossuet grinned.

            “I’m not afraid to admit it!  Everyone knows I’m gay, it isn’t hard to tell.” He replied.  “We’re just not dating!”

            “I will go on a date with you, Lyle.” Caroline said with a smile.

            “I would love to go on a date with you, Caroline.  You can be my girlfriend.” He lifted the little girl into his lap. Jehan took a picture.

            “Papa can Lyle come with me to Girl Day?” Caroline asked. Courfeyrac had nearly forgotten, but it was Saturday, and Caroline was scheduled to spend the day with Cosette and Eponine. They would be at the house to pick her up at 10:00—in two hours.

            “Oh it’s alright, Caroline.  I’m not a girl!” Lyle said.  Caroline giggled and turned around in his lap, playing with his hair.

            “That’s okay you can pretend to be a girl and we can have Girl Day anyway. Aunt Eponine and Cosette are taking me to the nice shopping mall today!”

            “Could I go?” Lyle asked, looking to Feuilly and Jehan.

            “Of course!” Jehan replied.  Feuilly nodded.

            “It’ll be a date, okay?  We can get ice cream and—oh pancakes!” Caroline gushed before scrambling back to her own seat and eating her blueberry pancakes.  
  
  


 

  
~Want to know more about Lyle?  Go here!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/2261607/chapters/4966146  
  
Thanks for reading!  Sorry I haven't updated in a while!  I didn't like anything I was writing so I didn't post it, but hopefully there will be more up very soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Lyle walked back to the house with Courfeyrac and Caroline, pushing the wheelchair and helping Courfeyrac onto the sofa.  Caroline climbed into her papa’s lap and smiled.

            “You look just like your papa, Caroline!” Lyle said, sitting on the edge of the armchair, combing his hand through one of his low pigtails.

            “Papa what time are Aunt Eponine and Aunt Cosette coming?”

            “Um…Ten.” Courfeyrac said, stumbling a bit.

            “What time is it now?”

            “Nine…um…fifty.” he looked at his wristwatch, his hand shaking as he lifted it. Breakfast had been a bit embarrassing; his hands were shaking so badly that Joly had to feed him. He knew nobody minded, but he hated it when Caroline had to see him that way.  Actually, Courfeyrac was glad Caroline was going with Eponine and Cosette.  He wasn’t physically able to take care of her today, and he didn’t want to neglect her in any way.

            “Ten minutes!” Lyle sang, his voice soft and song-like, in the same manner as Jehan.  Though Lyle had always been similar in personality to Jehan, over the years, they had only grown closer. They were both quiet sorts of people, who enjoyed tea and good books.  Lyle had a good portion of Feuilly in his personality as well. He was a doer. A dreamer.  A thinker.  He was an avid volunteer, like Feuilly, and spent most of his time at the local animal shelter, caring for the small animals.  He had a job at a small, local farm where he helped plant crops and tend the animals: two pigs, ten chickens, four sheep, a cow called Felicia, and a horse named Tallulah.  He was a hard worker and very driven, despite his abusive childhood. He was just a kind person, and most everyone who got to know him loved him—including Caroline.

            “Ten minutes!  Lyle can you do braids?” she asked, hopping across the floor, doing a sort of little dance, then sitting down in front of the chair, at Lyle’s feet.

            “Yup! Would you like French braids, or just regular ones?” he asked.  Jehan taught him all sorts of things to do with hair—his own, and others’.

            “Oh French ones!  My Até doesn’t do those!”

            “Okay! Sit still, alright?” he said, twisting one side of her short, curly hair into a braid starting from the front of her head and winding behind her ear.  Lyle tied them at the ends, leaving tiny curls at the ends of her thin hair. He repeated the process on the other side, then pulled the bobby pin out of his own hair as well as the flower he wore at his ear, and pinned it to Caroline’s braid.

            “Oh thank you!” Caroline cooed, standing and giving Lyle a hug, then kissing his cheek.  He laughed with a little blush.

            “You’re welcome!”

            “But now you have these.” She ran her fingers through the flyaway hair around Lyle’s face and ears—the ones the bobby pin had been holding at bay. “Do you want your pin back?”

            “No that’s alright.  You keep it.” He smiled.

            “Caroline has…um…headbands in the…in the bathroom, if you…want to use one of those.” Courfeyrac offered, sitting on the couch with his head rested on the backrest, his eyes closed.  He just wanted to sleep off his crumby day.  He usually felt better after a nap.

            “That would be great.  Thanks!” Lyle said, standing.  “Caroline, would you show me where your headbands are?”

            “I’ll get it!” she cooed, hurrying off to the bathroom before Lyle could protest.  She returned a moment later with a handful of different headbands, some plastic, some stretchy, others with flowers and some with pretty designs.  Lyle opted for a simple stretchy band in yellow to match his top. He slipped it over his head and smiled.

            “Now you look pretty!” Caroline said, putting the rest of her stack of headbands on the coffee table.

            “Not as pretty as you.” Lyle replied.  There was a knock at the door, then Eponine’s thick black hair became visible, followed shortly by her head as she peeked inside.

            “Aunt Eponine!” Caroline said, running to her and giving her a hug.

            “Hey Pretty Girl!  Ready for Girl Day?”

            “Yes! Lyle is coming too!” Lyle gave a little wave from the armchair.

            “Only if that’s okay with you.” he said.

            “Of course it is!  We love you, Lyle!” Cosette added from where she stood behind Eponine.

            “You’re the perfect shopping partner.” Eponine said.

            “Except he’s so tall and skinny!  He makes me jealous!” Cosette smiled.  Lyle blushed as Courfeyrac chuckled.

            “Have fun, baby girl.” He said, struggling to lift his head, but doing so and giving a little wave.

            “Bye-bye Papa, love you!” Caroline hurried to him and gave him a hug, which he gladly returned.

 

—o0o—

 

            “Can we go into the big girl stores?” Caroline asked as they walked, holding Cosette’s hand.  Eponine laughed.

            “What’s a big girl store?” she asked.  Lyle smiled from where he walked just behind Caroline, beside Eponine.

            “Like the ones were big girls go.” She attempted to elaborate.

            “Why don’t you tell us when we get close to a big girl store?” Cosette suggested.

            “Okay!” Caroline agreed.

A sudden, shrill voice called from somewhere behind them, and Lyle whipped around.

            “Hiya Lyle!” a girl called, her hair wild and bright white-blonde.

            “Hi Grace,” he replied with a little wave.  Caroline turned around and waved as well, a big smile on her face.

            “This your girlfriend, Lyle?” Eponine joked.  She knew Lyle wasn’t interested in girls, and was extremely skittish when it came to any sort of romantic relationships. Lyle rolled his eyes in return, but blushed.

            “You’ve met Grace.” He said.

            “Oh yes!  You’ve been friends for a long while.” Cosette smiled.

            “Yup!” Grace cooed.  “I don’t know the munchkin, though!” she said, looking to Caroline.

            “This is Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s little girl, Caroline.” He explained. She waved, but stuck close to Cosette, a little shy.

            “Hi Caroline!”

            “Hi!” she said quietly.

            “Cool leg.” Grace added with a thumbs-up.  Caroline smiled.

            “Are you here alone?” Lyle asked.  He hated to leave anyone alone.

            “Nope! Me and Alexia are heading home now. I just thought I’d say hi!” she smiled. The other girl, whom Lyle did not know well, waved from where she stood a little ways off.

            “Nice to see you again, Grace!” Cosette said. 

            “You guys too!” she replied, hurrying back to her friend.

            “You’re a pretty popular guy, Lyle.” Eponine said, somewhat teasingly. She knew Lyle could handle little jokes. Despite his sensitive appearance and mannerisms, he was tough, and could whip out a witty comeback in no time flat.

            “Very popular.” He replied with a grin.

            “That’s a big girl store!” Caroline called, pointing as they passed an Abercrombie.  Cosette flashed Eponine an unsure and somewhat disgusted look.  Eponine shrugged.  Lyle looked nervous.

            “Are you sure you’d like to go in there?  It’s dark and noisy.” Cosette said in an attempt to talk her out of it. But Caroline would have none of it.

            “Yes I want to!” she said, dragging Cosette inside, followed shortly by Eponine and Lyle.

            “Oh I like this!” Caroline said almost immediately, picking up a pink fleece sweatshirt with a moose in the middle. 

            “Let’s see, kiddo.” Eponine said.  Caroline handed her the sweatshirt and she looked it over. Even the small would be too big for Caroline, but it did look cozy, and she could wear it to bed. But then she saw the price tag.

            “Whoa little lady, this is 56 euro.”

            “Is that a lot?” Caroline asked.

            “Heck yeah it is!  Your Papa would get it for you, your daddies are rich but Aunt Ep is poor.” She joked. “I’d rather get you a cute dress or something than a crumby, overpriced sweatshirt.”

            “Oh okay.” Caroline shouted over the loud music.  She continued to look around.

            They were in the store for close to twenty minutes, following Caroline as she poked around.  Eponine was beginning to get irritated by the loud music, musky scent, and dark atmosphere when Lyle’s tiny voice meagerly broke through the din. 

            “Do you like this?” he asked.  Cosette and Eponine turned around, neither of them expecting what they saw.

            Lyle was a truly beautiful example of a human being.  He was very tall and willowy, with clear, milky skin and long legs, his eyes hazel and bright.  He usually wore girl’s clothes, and he always looked nice in whatever he wore. He rarely wore anything very revealing, besides the occasional crop top on especially hot days. The outfit he stepped out of the dressing room in was no exception, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

            He wore a pair of eyelet short pants that made his legs look ridiculously long.  He also donned a floral patterned tank top and a pale cardigan.  Eponine’s jaw dropped.

            “Well…I mean…I wouldn’t wear these shoes.” Lyle added hurriedly at Eponine’s reaction.

            “Lyle wear whatever the hell you want you look amazing in everything. The shorts are adorable I would wear them if they made them in my size.” She said jokingly.

            “You think so?” Lyle asked.

            “Most certainly, Lyle.” Cosette said.

            “Can I get those pants too?” Caroline asked.

            “Oh baby girl, they don’t make them small enough for you!” Cosette explained.

            “Oh okay…” 

            “Why don’t we try a store for little girls, _petit fille._ ” Cosette suggested.

            “There’s one right across the way.” Eponine added.  Lyle smiled before retreating back into the dressing room. He returned a moment later.

            “Okay I guess so.” Caroline said, running her hand down a sweater sleeve, finding it itchy and making a face.

            “Want to come, Lyle?” Eponine asked.

            “Yes please!  Just let me buy these shorts and I’ll meet you over there.” He smiled.

 

Cosette, Eponine, and Lyle paraded across the way to a little girl’s clothing store many of Caroline’s clothes came from: Jacardi.

            Though the store was relatively expensive, Cosette and Eponine didn’t mind buying for her, seeing as they rarely took her shopping.  Usually, they took her to parks or to a fun class: last weekend was etiquette, the weekend before was a local dinosaur museum. They only went shopping very occasionally.  Caroline was immediately more at home, and scurried to a rack of little sun dresses in pretty patterns. Lyle watched with a smile as Cosette and Eponine helped her look.

            “I like this one.” Cosette said with a smile, showing Caroline a colorful floral dress.

            “That one is nice but the skirt part isn’t swishy.” She replied, twirling her own pink skirt—from the same store—to demonstrate. 

            “This one has a spinny skirt.” Eponine said, pulling a dress with a circular skirt from the rack.  It was striped and had a sailor kerchief collar.  Caroline shrugged.

            “That’s too plain it’s just white.” She said.  “I like this one best!” she pulled a dress from the rack, pleated with a pattern of blue flowers.

            “That one is very pretty, Petit Chérie! Cosette said with a smile. “And they have one that matches for Fantine!” she added, taking another, infant version of the same dress for her own little girl.

            “We can match right?!”

            “You’ll be a matched set.” Eponine smiled, taking the dress from Caroline and paying for it.  Caroline immediately scurried back to the dressing room and put it on, handing Eponine the shopping bag holding her old clothes.  Lyle laughed.

            “You look very pretty, Caroline.” He said, running his hand through one of his ponytails, something he was wont to do.

            “Thank you!” she cooed.

Everything was going very well until they entered a department store to look for ‘flower leggings’, as Caroline put it.  They looked around for a bit, and Caroline was eager to try them on, insisting on going into the dressing room by herself.  Lyle, Eponine, and Cosette sat outside on the sofas, waiting for her, listening carefully, should she need help. 

            “Um, excuse me?” a woman said, tapping Cosette on the shoulder.

            “Yes? She replied, turning and smiling.  Lyle watched, as did Eponine, a warning look on her face. She wasn’t especially trusting of people, for she knew how cruel the general public could be.  Her parents weren’t especially good people, and she had been around their not-so-good-friends her entire childhood.  She knew people were miserable and mean, and she was always on the lookout. 

            “You let your little girl go in by herself?” she asked. Eponine rolled her eyes.

            “Yes. She’s alright. She’s very mature.” Cosette explained.

            “But she’s disabled.” The woman said harshly.  Eponine looked like she was going to burst into flames.

            “She is not disabled.  She can dress herself perfectly, and she asked to go in by herself.” Cosette explained mildly. She had a much cooler temper than Eponine.  Lyle only looked on, picking at his fingernails nervously—something he had done since he was little.

            “Not admitting your child is disabled is erasure of the handicapped. You should be ashamed!” the woman continued. Cosette bowed her eyebrows. She stood to speak with the woman properly.

            “The word ‘disabled’ means that someone cannot do something. Caroline can do anything she wants to, and is therefore not disabled.  Handicapped is different.  Handicapped means that someone is impeded from doing things.  Caroline’s leg is an impediment, not a disability.” She explained with a kind smile, though she was quite obviously on the defensive. If Cosette was good at anything, it was being passive aggressive, but she only used her power for good. When it came to actual arguments, she was always forthcoming and calm.

            The woman looked disgusted as Caroline rounded the corner, wearing her leggings and undershirt, one leg hanging limply over the pole-like portion of her prosthetic.

            “Are these pretty?” she asked with a smile, knowing the answer. Of course they were pretty! Cosette and Eponine had assured her that no matter what, she was always beautiful.

            “Those are lovely, Caroline!” Lyle smiled.  The woman looked even more disgusted when she heard Lyle’s voice, which did not ‘match’ his appearance.  Caroline retreated into the dressing room to change back into her new dress.

            “You’re her _brother_?” the woman asked, looking to Lyle, who blushed and crossed his arms.

            “I…I’m her cousin.” He explained, his cheeks hot.

            “And you’re both her mothers?”

            “We’re her aunts.” Cosette said.

            “For such a _diverse_ family, I would expect you to have more respect for the disabled.”  The woman added.  Eponine couldn’t keep quiet any more.  She stood up and marched over to the woman, standing on her toes and getting right in her face.

            “Look, lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but there is nothing wrong with Caroline or with the rest of our family.  _You’re_ the one with the problem!”

            “Oh wow, what a great insult.  I’m entitled to my opinion, and I think you’re erasing the fact that handicapped people exist.  That poor girl probably thinks you don’t care!  I bet you don’t even help her at home!”  Eponine grit her teeth and fisted her hands.

            “Okay!” Cosette said, seeing Eponine’s reaction and knowing that things could get violent.  Eponine had gotten into bar fights while completely sober to defend friends, and this was no different. “Madam, we will do what we believe to be right for our niece, and you will mind your business. We appreciate the concern, but it is not warranted.  Eponine, make sure Caroline is alright in the dressing room.” She said with a smile. The woman left in a huff.

            “Amazing, how rude people always seem to find easy targets.” Eponine said after the woman left.  Lyle chuckled sarcastically in reply.

            “You’re right!” he said.  Lyle had been made fun of his entire life, whether by his own biological father, or by his peers. He was terribly timid, and would rarely defend himself, and somehow, he always ran into jerks who couldn’t mind their own business. 

            Caroline emerged from the dressing room, tears in her eyes as she carried her new leggings.

            “Oh my Darling, what’s wrong?” Cosette asked, running to her and picking her up.

            “That lady was mean.” She mumbled with a frown and a pouty lip.

            “You heard her?” Eponine asked, looking in the direction the woman had gone. She was lucky she was out of sight; otherwise, Eponine would have pounded her right there. Caroline nodded into Cosette’s shoulder.

            “I don’t want to be ‘disability’.” She said, tears rolling down her peachy cheeks.

            “Caroline, you aren’t disabled.  You’re perfect just the way you are.  That lady has no idea what she’s talking about.”  Eponine assured her.  Lyle nodded in agreement.

            “But I only have one leg so I’m not perfect.” She cried.

            “I’d bet that lady has never gone rock climbing.” Cosette said, carrying her out of the store after paying for her leggings.

            “And you’re amazing at ballet, Caroline. Uncle R told me how wonderful you are.” Lyle added warmly, giving her back a rub.

            “And she’s not nearly as nice as you are.  You’re nice to everyone, and that’s what makes you perfect.” Eponine said.  Caroline smiled and wiped her tears away.

 

            Before they left the mall, Caroline had also scored a new pink circle skirt, a lace headband, and two t shirts: one pink with a cute smile in the middle, and the other light blue with an ice cream cone.  Going to ‘big girl stores’ had become a non-event, and the mean woman had all but left her mind.  Caroline was very happy, swinging her little purse while Lyle and Eponine carried her shopping bags.  Cosette was busy holding her lemonade.

 

            “That was lots of fun!” Caroline smiled as Cosette buckled her into her booster seat.  Lyle slipped in beside her.

            “Oh yes.  Lots of fun!” Eponine ‘agreed’, giving Cosette a look.  Cosette laughed.

            “You’ll have to go home and model for your Papa and Até.” She said.

            “I think Papa will like the ice cream shirt.” Caroline said, leaning against her hand, which rested against the window.

            “I think so too.” Cosette replied.

 

Caroline was asleep within minutes.  
  
  
  
  
  
~I don't really like this chapter but I figured I should post it or something.  eh.  What do you think?


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